


Helping Hand

by Lisenik



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 12:22:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22969939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisenik/pseuds/Lisenik
Summary: Is the metal arm a nuisance or a help?This is post-Winter Soldier 'happily ever after' AU
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Не для скуки](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15969518) by [fandom_Starbucks_Roles_TwoSexyMen_2018](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_Starbucks_Roles_TwoSexyMen_2018/pseuds/fandom_Starbucks_Roles_TwoSexyMen_2018), [Lisenik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisenik/pseuds/Lisenik). 



> Translated by [ Kana_Go ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kana_Go)

The room was full of sounds: there were wet noises, creaking of the bed that turned out to be not so strong after all, Bucky’s sharp unsteady breaths and Steve’s groans drowning out all the other sounds now and then.

A few weeks ago when Bucky finally felt ready for sex Steve ran wild, making up for all the years of theoretical training. He was going to try almost everything that humanity had invented so that two men could enjoy each other in one bed. Alone with Bucky, Steve completely lost his usual self-control: slightest touch to his neck or chest tore groans of pleasure out of him, and Bucky’s fingers caressing his nipple sent shivers of excitement down his spine. He gasped and threw his head back skittishly as soon as Bucky’s palm covered that spot on the small of his back and Bucky’s lips around his dick felt like liquid fire on his skin – his voice rose to a shout. Bucky soaked in a string of all these ‘Yeah!’, ‘More’, ‘Bucky’ as well as absolutely incomprehensible sounds and didn’t regret a single cent spent on sound insulation of their apartment.  
Bucky couldn’t let himself go like that. He made love as quietly as he did all the other things except there were moments when he failed to control his loud tense breathing. It looked like these habits aroused Steve even more, and Steve felt as though he fucked a ghost, a living image right from his teenage wet dreams.

So now, hardly had Steve recovered from a mind-melting blow job, he pulled Bucky closer to the headboard, still whimpering softly, and flipped him over onto his back, peppering his skin with kisses. Bucky reached for him silently, smiling and licking his lips. No matter how much Steve wanted to do exactly this, he tried not to press his full weight down on Bucky: the man looked fragile and vulnerable without his metal arm. Bucky had to growl softly so that Steve stopped coddling him and got on top.

The fact that their first time ended up quite a failure was Hydra’s fault. Not even because the Avenger Assemble signal interrupted their private moment. The metal arm wasn’t designed for making out, with its cold surface and the hard edges of its plates. Besides, the electronics inside interpreted nerve impulses during orgasm in a weird way, so when Bucky had come for the very first time he’d punched Steve in the face wildly. The constant need to apologize made Bucky put up with polishing the plates, calibration and installing a heating system, but when Stark offered to fiddle with the neuroelectric circuits Bucky’s only response was leaving the lab hastily.  
They had only one solution – to remove the prosthesis at night. In the evening. Sometimes unexpectedly during the day. Bucky got used to living without his arm for some periods of time and Steve did his best to help him. When they were in bed he always chose the position which was comfortable for Bucky even though the man complained about being treated like an invalid.

Straddling Bucky’s hips, Steve leaned forward, propping himself on his outstretched arms, and his clouded eyes met Bucky’s. Bucky had already found a tube of lubricant by touch and, squeezing out a generous amount of it, was lubricating his dick with unhurried strokes.  
Steve… pretty… sweet… come on, he whispered in his thoughts and looked at Steve, disheveled and eager, burning with desire and arching his back. As usual, Bucky made no sound but stared into his eyes. Steve understood the signal and pushed backward, pressing against the hot head of Bucky’s dick. After little rocking and with some help, Steve sank onto Bucky’s dick with a loud hoarse moan. Shivering a bit, he was trying to calm his breath, pawing blindly over Bucky’s chest and stomach, pinching his swollen nipples. For a moment he got distracted by a strange scraping sound behind the door, but Bucky’s hips went up and they both suddenly had other things to do. Steve started moving smoothly, then more and more freely and sharply. He tried really hard not to close his eyes. If he couldn’t hear Bucky he wanted to see him: his tousled hair on the pillow, the strands of it stuck to his sweaty temples, his half-open bright lips and his eyes sparkling with pleasure. Through the sound of their bodies slapping against each other and through Steve’s shaky voice that soft scraping could be heard on and off, and now it was Bucky who got distracted. But Steve shuddered, groaned, gasping for air, lost his rhythm, and then Bucky grabbed his dick and started stroking it in sync with the last powerful thrusts. Bucky’s dilated pupils and contractions of sculpted stomach muscles were the only signs of his release.  
“Sssniper,” Steve muttered and rubbed his eye quickly.  
He let himself fall on Bucky, forgetting about all the fragility and vulnerability, and basked unabashedly, locking Bucky in his arms, ‘til he was pushed off on the bed in quite an ungentle manner.  
“Did you hear that?”  
Bucky slipped off the bed and tiptoed to the door, releasing the safety of the gun he kept on the bedside table. Steve grew alarmed, too, and got his shield from under the bed. They exchanged looks, nodded to each other and Bucky flung the door open.

***

They didn’t manage to find the source of that strange sound. Were there mice here? Steve could remember huge cockroaches infesting apartments in the old Brooklyn. Those giants had been literally tramping on the walls. But in these modern sterile lodgings even germs could hardly survive.  
As for the suspicious sounds at night – more precisely, during sex – they could hear them a couple more times, and after the third time Bucky seemed to suspect something. Deep in thought and as if by accident, he agreed to make Tony Stark the happiest man in the world – for which read, he allowed him to poke around in the metal arm’s internals. But it didn’t allay his anxiety. The arm’s design turned up to be much more complicated than they’d thought initially. It included a powerful processor and a radio module whose purpose remained unclear. However, they never found anything able to produce soft scraping noises.  
Steve managed to make Bucky tell him what exactly had put him on alert. When Bucky had been searching their apartment for the umpteenth time, the ammunition cabinet where they usually left the prosthesis for a night had been slightly open, 3 millimeters or so. Steve wanted to laugh at him, but then he remembered Bucky’s usual meticulousness: if he insisted he’d closed the door, he had really done it.  
However, the processor in the suspicious limb couldn’t replace a fully functional brain so one day it gave itself away.  
Once again Steve and Bucky didn’t pay any attention to the soft noise they both had got used to. Also, they didn’t notice that it’d sounded a bit louder. But as Bucky was returning from the bathroom he froze: gleaming in the light of streetlamps, the arm was on the windowsill. With quite a purposeful look.  
“Steve?” Bucky called and Steve hummed something incomprehensible. “Why did you bring it here?”  
“What?”  
“My arm! How did it get here?” Bucky was getting irritated. “You remember that it and sex just don’t mix, don’t you? Do you really want to mend your jaw for another three days?”  
“But I didn’t bring it. Could it crawl here on its own?”  
Bucky paused. Well, come to think of it, the crawling arm could produce that scraping sound. It could even climb up the windowsill, holding on the soft upholstery of the armchair. However, it hadn’t shown any independent behavior before.  
“Crawl!” he ordered firmly.  
“Where?” Steve asked in confusion.  
“Not you. Eh… You… The thing, come on, show us how you can run,” Bucky insisted, but the arm remained absolutely still.  
“What if…” Steve had had an idea at the tip of his tongue and finally he managed to put his finger on it. “What if it’s connected with you? I mean, with the gizmo in your shoulder. Perhaps, if you imagine that you’re wiggling your fingers it’ll start crawling.”  
Bucky pushed his imagination really hard and thought he saw the metal fingers twitch. Or was it just a gleam of headlights from the street?  
“That’s ridiculous. To hell with it, let’s leave it here. Are you going to shower?”  
“Nope. Come here.”  
Steve opened his arms, and the two started rolling on the bed, making out and wrestling jokingly. A couple of minutes later, when Steve ended up in a hammerlock, twisted like a pretzel, Bucky asked him, puzzled, “Steve? Are you okay?”  
“I can’t do this,” Steve answered bashfully. “It’s looking at us.”  
“The arm? Steve, erm… It has no eyes in case you haven’t noticed.”  
But Steve objected peevishly, “So what? It knew where to crawl. And got a good vantage point. Which means it can see. Or it understands everything in some other way. Let me go!”  
Bucky grinned, nipped Steve’s ear possessively and got up. He reached the windowsill at two steps, grabbed the prosthesis and left the bedroom, waving the arm carelessly. There was a crash, then the lock of the ammunition cabinet clicked.  
“Done, Stevie,” Bucky called from the doorway. “Now you’re all mine!”  
In the morning he found the arm on the windowsill. Bucky gave it a stern look and, not knowing what to do, just grabbed it and started attaching its plugs and joints to his shoulder.

***

The next night they set up an ambush.  
Steve thought it would be enough to hide under the covers and tell scary tales, waiting for the arm to appear. Bucky was sure that it was all about sex and the arm wouldn’t come without it.  
They ended up doing something in-between because their real life was scary enough. Steve started moaning softly, his arousal was gradually growing, but from time to time Bucky whispered, ‘Shut up!’ and started listening intensively while continuing to caress and stroke him.  
They spotted the arm halfway to the windowsill: it wasn’t scraping anymore and managed to open the door without making a sound. When noticed, it pretended to be a brainless chunk of metal. It just stayed there, on the carpet, and didn’t respond to orders, mental efforts and curses. As soon as Steve and Bucky busied themselves with each other again, the arm kept crawling as if nothing had happened but changed direction. They caught it near the bedside table which it tried and failed to climb up.  
The room got quiet. The two supersoldiers were staring at the metal arm and the metal arm, raising itself upon an elbow and wrapping its fingers around the leg of the table, was staring back. Or so it seemed.  
“You know I feel sorry for it,” Steve said suddenly in a slightly hoarse voice. “It’s like a dog. You kick it out so that you can do some interesting things and it just suffers behind the door.”  
“Dogs aren’t stuffed with mystery devices. I don’t really trust it. It’s dangerous, Stevie.”  
“You’re more dangerous. Look at it, its movement is limited without you. It can’t even get on the bedside table. By the way, why would it go there in your opinion?”  
“The better to strangle you, my dear,” Bucky howled.  
Steve elbowed him and they almost got back to their horseplay, but Steve remembered about the arm. Picking the prosthesis from the floor, he put it on the bedside table and stroked its wrist gently.  
“Do you like it here? Have some rest.”  
Bucky rolled his eyes up resignedly and pulled Steve to him.  
They kissed, nipping each other’s ears and necks playfully. Slowly, Steve slid down and grazed Bucky’s nipple with his teeth, which made him shudder and arch his back silently. Growing enthusiastic, Steve pushed Bucky’s legs apart and started sucking his nipples into his mouth in turns. Bucky felt a rush of arousal. He kept meeting Steve’s thrusts, rubbing his erection against Steve’s stomach, seemingly unaware of what he was doing. He opened his legs even wider and looked deep into Steve’s eyes: in those moments they were perfectly able to tell each other’s desires from their faces.  
Following a silent request, Steve reached for the lubricant. He found it closer than he thought it would be, but at this particular moment, he wasn’t really interested in calculating the distance. He squeezed out some lube onto his palm, made a fist to warm it a bit and moved lower, kissing Bucky’s stomach and hip bones. Bucky pulled up his knees violently, almost bending in half. Steve chuckled and finally put his lubricated fingers to good use. With their regular exercise, no long prep was needed, but Steve loved this part of prelude: the possibility to bring Bucky to completion with only his hands was right here, making Steve keep both himself and Bucky on the edge. Bucky knew when to stop. He pulled Steve to him and wrapped his legs around his waist, raising his body and opening up. Steve gave a deep-chested growl when he saw it and kissed him on the mouth greedily, grabbing hold of his hair. With his other hand, he took his dick, aligned it and kept overcoming the resistance of the tight muscles ‘til he was deep to the root. Bucky gasped and jerked his hips up, urging Steve to move.  
Slow smooth rocking didn’t last: they both wanted it harder and deeper so Bucky started meeting Steve’s powerful thrusts, throwing his head back each time. He squeezed Steve’s ass hard enough to bruise, drawing an animal groan out of him, and sank on his dick even more sharply.  
Steve kept moving at a fast controlled pace, breathing in rhythm loudly. His head was swimming, his only thought was ‘Bucky!’ and even if at some point he felt as if Bucky was guiding him with his both – two? – hands, he didn’t think much of it. He felt that touch again and slowed down a bit, concentrating: the fingers stroked his thigh and slid between his buttocks. Then they disappeared for a couple of moments but soon returned, covered with the lube. Steve got light-headed. He moaned, ‘Oh, Buck, ohhhh!’ and pressed his forehead against Bucky’s chest, shuddering and trying to control himself. Then he moved backward slowly, allowing those fingers to penetrate him.  
Steve slammed into Bucky, looked at his flushed face, looked at him raising his arm and hiding his face in the crease of his elbow – and then he thrust back on the sleek fingers enthusiastically. He didn’t last long: after a few thrusts another breath morphed into a sob, he jerked back, trying to force the slick fingers deeper, and fell on Bucky’s stomach, convulsing and painting the man’s parted thighs with trickles of his seed.  
“Oh, Stevie,” Bucky stroked his hair gently. “You’re a mess!”  
“Mhmm,” Steve managed to force in response, enjoying the touch. “Damn, Bucky, sorry! I… I’ve got carried away. All because of your skilled little fingers. Wait, I’ll do it properly…” with that he tried to raise himself a little, intending to give Bucky a blow job, but Bucky stopped him.  
“What fingers are you talking about? You’re already… Holy fuck! What the hell is it doing?”  
The question was rhetorical. The metal arm, warm and slick with the lube, got between his legs and squeezed his dick, gently and carefully, just like Bucky would do it himself. Balancing somehow, it moved its hand back and forth as if showing off its skills to the two shocked examiners. Bucky could feel curiosity and surprise mixing with approaching arousal. He chuckled and said, “You know, it’s nice… really nice… almost as if I was doing it my… Oooh!”  
Steve decided to offer some help and licked the head glistening with the lube. Bucky shuddered and arched on the bed, spilling his release. Hardly managing to move aside fast enough, Steve muttered, “You missed.” The arm relaxed, crawled over Bucky’s hip – it really ‘walked’ on its fingers – and settled by his side, stroking him softly.  
Bucky sighed.  
“What do you mean by ‘missed’? I didn’t aim. In case you haven’t noticed, I wasn’t in command here.”  
“Next you’ll tell me the arm isn’t yours.”  
Bucky had to think about it. The arm was his for lack of a better one. Today it’d done exactly what was needed, what Bucky himself would like to do. Probably, it had that radio module for a reason and followed his subconscious orders, but in this case, he’d have to learn really seriously to control it. He grinned slyly and ordered the arm to do the thing he craved always, at any given moment. Ten seconds later Steve who’d settled by his other side hummed sleepily, “Bucky…”  
Then he looked back sharply, counted the limbs which were stroking his ass gently and inquired, “So is it you or is it doing this itself?”  
“Well… I ordered it to do something different… Maybe it’s sentient after all?”  
“Why on earth would a sentient mechanism get into a man’s ass? It was great by the way, I’d like to do it again.”  
“Into a man’s ass?” Bucky started thinking deeply again, so deeply that Steve didn’t notice him fall asleep.  
Or maybe he’d just fallen asleep first.


End file.
